


Holstered

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Sibling Incest, Teasing, Thigh Holsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thigh holster porn.  That is all.  Written for bewaretheides15 because there will never be enough thigh holster porn. Never!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holstered

Sam had to admit that the thing was handy.

"Hungry, Sammy?" Dean dug through the holster and pulled out a wrinkled wrapper.

Only Dean would keep salt rounds, lube and a cheeseburger strapped to his thigh.

He'd been carrying on about this stupid thigh holster for weeks, making them stop in every gun store and hunting outpost they passed until he found it.

"See, Sammy, perfect place to hold all my shit, doesn't get in the way... Future Dean is kind of a dick but he had a few good ideas," Dean had practically strutted around their room in the thing before making a joke about some chick named Rhonda.

Sam had to admit the thing was handy, but he hadn't expected it to be so ... fetching. Sam caught himself staring at it more often than he'd like to admit.

At first he'd teased Dean about it.

"Nice fanny pack, Deanna."

"Samantha, let's try that one again when you don't have my jizz drying on your neck, shall we?" Dean had smirked and, yeah, he'd won that round.

But Sam couldn't stop thinking about how hot that fucking thing looked cinched around his brother's thigh.

Like Sam didn't spend enough time thinking about Dean's legs and how they'd look so much better wrapped around him, now all he could think about was Dean's perfect, muscular leg all strapped in and superhero sexy, black webbing tight over the creamy skin of his inner thigh, canvas chafing against Sam's face.

Yeah, Sam had grown pretty fond of the thigh holster.

Sam knows Dean'd be into it, but he also knows he's not getting it without a buttload of Dean teasing him.

After the fourth time Sam rubs one out in the shower thinking about it, he decides he can stomach any amount of teasing if he can suck Dean off while he's wearing it.

Sam tries to slip it in while Dean's at his most open to suggestion, sprawled out on the bed naked, all of him hot and hard and writhing under Sam, cock thick and smearing precome all over his stomach where it's trapped right next to Sam's, full weight of his baby brother keeping him still as Sam ruts down on him.

Sam had taken as long as he could stand to get them there, wanted Dean so strung out for it that Sam could get him to do anything.

Sam runs his tongue under the jut of Dean's jaw, hot line up to his ear, teeth closing around an earlobe as he whispers, "Dean, want you to do something..."

"Fuck, Sam, what, jesus fucking cocktease what..." Dean tries to roll him over but Sam leans in.

"Want you to put something on for me."

Dean looks at him funny, eyes widening as he starts to say something before quirking an eyebrow and settling on, "K."

Sam rolls off him, reaches down to the floor beside the bed where Dean had dropped the holster.

Dean comes up on his elbows and tilts his head when Sam drops the mess of straps on the bed.

Dean's mouth settles into an "O" of surprise like he was expecting something totally different (Sam had to remember to ask about that when some blood started flowing north of his dick again). Then he rolls his head back and laughs, looks at Sam with a smile on his face like the cat who ate the other cat who ate all of the canaries.

"You wanna fuck me with the holster on, Sammy?" Dean snatches it up. "Oh this is too good..."

Dean grabs one of the straps and goes to snap it, stopping right before he does it to give Sam one of those looks, one of those make Sammy suffer for it before he comes till he blacks out looks, the kind that always made Sam feel red-faced and mortified and made his cock stand up at attention like a good little soldier in the traitorous whore army.

"C'mon, Sammy, wanna see me in it so bad, put it on me..." Dean shifts back to lean against the headboard with his hands behind his head, legs spread out wide as he tosses the holster back at Sam.

Sam catches it in one hand, eyes on Dean as he snaps the first strap on. No way Dean was giving it up this easy.

Dean just smiles at him and bends his knee so Sam can get the other strap on. Sam tightens the buckles until the straps are snug against Dean's thigh, black lines against pale skin, tight fit of it against his muscles, and fuck it's about a thousand times hotter than Sam had imagined, especially with Dean's cock lying thick and shiny at the tip next to it. Jesus.

Sam runs his thumb along one of the straps, hooks it under and tugs until Dean's leg is bent up straight, foot planted on the bed. Sam leans in and licks the shiny little bead of precome at the slit of Dean's cock with the tip of his tongue, pulling Dean's leg in close with his thumb under the holster strap as he closes his mouth over the head.

Dean sighs happily and flexes his hip, spreads his legs back apart into a wide V as he arches up into Sam's mouth.

Sam hooks his thumb in tighter and pulls Dean's leg back until his thigh is pressed against Sam's cheek again, straps grazing him as he flexes his jaw and rolls his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock.

Dean pulls his leg away again with a long contented moan, smirking as Sam looks up at him.

Fucker. Fucking fucker.

Sam deserves an award for not using his teeth as he pulls off Dean's cock, long look at his brother as Dean smiles and splays himself out.

“S'matter, Sammy? I'm wearing it, ain't I?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean, c'mon...”

“What do you want, Sammy?” Huge grin on his face. Fucker.

Sam weighs his options and decides that playing along will get him more in the long run, and it's easier to choke down a big old slice of humble pie when you know what you'll be swallowing afterward.

“Want to feel it on my face, Dean, c'mon...”

Dean puts his hands down beside him on the bed, leaning down to give Sam a smug grin. “Want me to fuck your face, Sammy, just have to ask nice.”

Dean scoots himself down, heel of his foot digging into Sam's waist to push him off the bed. Sam gets on his knees next to the mattress as Dean slides over to sit up right in front of him, hand running into his hair. Fucking finally.

“Say please, Sammy.” Fucker. Fucking king fuck of fucker island fucker.

“Please. Dean.”

Dean hooks his leg over Sam's shoulder as he tightens his grip in Sam's hair.

“That's my boy.”

Sam barely has time to react as Dean pulls his mouth down, thigh wrapping up to lock his head in place as Dean slams his cock home. Sam goes boneless and groans out as Dean cocks his leg up and presses it into Sam's head, Sam's cock saluting out a happy little blurt of precome.

“That's my boy, Sammy,” wet slide of Dean down his throat, “always such a kinky little bitch.”

Sam moans as Dean pulls his leg in, buckles digging into Sam's cheekbone, rough canvas straps grating against the stubble on his face as Dean thrusts his hips up, holding Sam by the hair as he fucks his face.

Sam just tries to breathe through his nose and hold on for the ride, cock slapping up against his stomach every time Dean pulls him in, throbbing hard and wet. Sam's not sure which end of him is drooling more because jesus take the fucking wheel Dean is just so goddamn good at this.

“Thought you'd never ask, Sammy.” Sam rolls his eyes up at Dean, hazel shining wet and happy.

Dean bites his lip and grunts out that mumbled  _fucksammyfuck_  that means he's close, hand in Sam's hair pulling him back until Dean's cock is right in front of his lips, muscles in his thigh twitching against Sam's cheek as he holds him there and shoots his load all over Sam's face, white ropes of it landing in Sam's mouth before jesus fucking mercy mother of heaven Dean manages to lob the rest of it right onto the motherfucking holster and Sam almost creams himself right there.

There's not even a question where Sam's mouth is headed next, lips closing over the canvas strap on Dean's thigh to suck at the sticky mess on it as Dean pats his cheek and sighs.

“Why do you think I bought the fucking thing, Sammy?”

 

 


End file.
